Note: All right, this is just an idea. So, let me know what you think. Please review. I know it's strange but should I keep going?

Prologue

Dear Edwin Josephson,
It seems that my time is short so I will say what I need to and
get it over with. My friend, I'm afraid that I've made a horrible
mistake. As you are aware, I am head of a research and development
team with Darkness' Grip, Inc. Along with other members on my team, I
thought we had found a cure for cancer. Not just one type of cancer
mind you, but many different types. All along, the cure rested dormant
in the Crimson Glory Orchid, a rare flower as you already know. We
were able to extract the fluids from within the flower and mix it to
form a cure. Or at least what we thought was a cure.
My friend, it did not go as we planned. Somehow we made a
mistake. The fluids were not a cure but a disease, a plague almost as
old as time. It had been resting dormant in the Crimson Glory for over
a thousand years. We predicted that it hadn't attacked any of living
organism since about 800 B.C.
Well, none of this is really important. Pay no attention to it.
This news is urgent and very deadly. The plague got loose and out of
the lab. I think it's airborne but we don't know the full stages of it
yet. This happened about a week ago and Edwin, people are starting to
die. They're horrible deaths! And the strange thing is that not
everyone dies immediately. What I mean is that, it appears that there
are different stages of the virus. Some stages are slower moving then
others and it appears that these victims don't die, or at least we
haven't seen any die yet. But that doesn't mean that the stages are
all like this. I've seen a man die in a day, the stage he had was so
bad. Doctor, I'm telling you this because I can't trust anyone else
with it. People on my research team are dying or disappearing and I
don't know what to do. None of us do. The town is slowly dying off and
destroying itself.
If you can do anything to stop this virus from spreading Edwin,
please do so. I only ask that you be careful. I'm begging you to be
careful. None of us know the full affects of this virus expect that it
is deadly. I'm afraid our time here in Charlotte is short Edwin.
Better yet Edwin, if possible, don't get yourself involved. I know
this is much to ask of you but if you don't want to get involved, then
by all means, don't! I wouldn't ask anyone this but I knew I could
trust you.
There are a couple affects that each victim has had in common so
far. Strangely, every victim's hair slowly turns black; to a midnight
black. And the pupils of their eyes turn dark blue with the whites
turning dark red. They look dead while still alive and they laugh
almost constantly. Perhaps the most disturbing of these first affects
is the one that most victims get. Sadly, this affect is insanity.
I'm afraid that my time here---our time here Edwin---is growing
very short. We have no hope of escaping this thing. I will bid you
farewell Edwin and hope that my mistake has doomed us all to an
untimely and miserable end. Damn my existence and the damned things
that I have done!

Your Friend,
Charles Venner, M.D.
Head of Research and Development
Darkness' Grip, Inc.

Charles dropped the pen to the tabletop painfully and studied his increasingly shaky and nerve-racking handwriting. He hoped Edwin could make out his letter with ease but he doubted it. Hell, he could barely read his own handwriting. In the past week or so, with the spread of the virus, he wasn't sure what to believe anymore. He realized that he had failed his friends, his job, and most importantly, his family, in his senseless and greedy pursuit of money and knowledge. If he had merely left the damned Crimson Glories alone, everything would have been fine but he couldn't take them off his greedy mind.
Folding the letter and stuffing it into an envelope, Charles sealed it with his wax symbol-a hammer cracking a padlock-and stuffed it into his coat pocket for later. He intended on mailing it to his friend as soon as dinner was over. Dinner with his family. As he stood up, he found himself laughing for no particular reason. Perhaps it had been a joke he had heard somewhere.
As Dr. Venner walked across the cozy black carpet of his study, towards the bathroom on the far end, he felt his jacket pocket-the one not holding the letter-and sighed in relief at the lump he felt at his hip. That would come in handy later and with this knowledge, Charles relaxed his shoulders, spread a wide grin over his face, and continued to laugh.
Flipping on the light of the small bathroom, Charles walked over to the sink, turned the water on and began to wash his hands. He had no reason and surprisingly, this made the smile on his face broaden. Sighing again as he splashed water onto his face, Charles examined his jet black hair and, in his opinion, beautiful blue eyes.
"For a middle-aged man, I look pretty damn good if I do say so myself," Charles laughed, drying his hands and rubbing his chin. "I see you beautiful eyes. Not bad at all!" He laughed again, flipped the lights off violently and started across the black carpet again, dancing as he went. "And I still have the moves! Hot damn!"
The door opened, casting the bright light from the hallway into the dim room and Charles saw his wife, Ellen, standing there in a white apron and still beautiful. "What are you doing?" she laughed happily and met his gaze. "Dinner's ready hon. Come on down and eat. I know you're had a rough day."
"Have I ever?" Mr. Venner laughed, walking to the door and embracing his wife. "But I still have your beautiful face to come home to and it's all worth it." He kissed her and soon they both started down the hallway and down the stairs to the dining room. "That smile will be the end of me." Ellen laughed happily and blushed.
Their ten year old son, Henry, sat at his place at the table and soon the two adults took their seats as well. "I'm going to town after dinner to mail a letter to Edwin Josephson. You remember Edwin, don't you Ellen?" She nodded and passed the potatoes to him with that same smile on her face.
Charles found himself disgusted at that damn smile. He didn't know why but as he spooned mashed potatoes onto his plate, he saw images of him bashing that smile into Ellen's head. A nice big bloody smile that would go well with her ugly bright green eyes. And he had once found them beautiful! Her disgusting blonde hair too! Ha! What the hell had been wrong with him?
He didn't even realize the was laughing again until he saw both sets of eyes on him. He gave them each a sidelong look with a questioning brow and turned on Ellen first. "What the hell are you looking at bitch?" Ellen gasped and recoiled in sadness. He quickly saw tears build up in her eyes and when he looked at his son, he saw the same tears growing in his own eyes. He felt for the lump in his pocket again and sighed in relief at the feel of it.
The first tear leaked out of his son's eyes and the boy leaned across the table, getting a better look at his father. "Are you sick daddy?" The laughing man nodded and slowly stood up from his chair. Henry tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your eyes? Is it because you're sick?"
"Yes son," Charles laughed happily. "It is because I'm sick." He pulled the pistol from his coat pocket-the comforting lump in his pocket- and sighed in relief again as he drummed back the hammer and pointed it at his son's head. He didn't even hear the distant (but not-to-far-away) scream that escaped his wife's throat. "I'm sick and tired of your damn voice and little shit of a face!" The boy began to cry as the trigger fell and the room echoed with the sound of a gunshot and then began to fill with the smell of gunpowder.
"Oh my God!" Ellen screamed. Charles was annoyed that she was completely out of control. Her eyes were fixed on the body of the ten year old boy with the bloody hole in his head as he rocked backwards and tipped over in the chair. Mr. Venner laughed happily as he turned the already cocked pistol at Ellen. He was just glad she hadn't passed out yet. He knew she wouldn't have that luxury. "What the hell have you done Charles? You killed our son!"
"Ah," he laughed, waving it away as if it was nothing, "it's no big deal honey. Don't be sad. Where's that smile of yours? That beautiful smile?" He laughed and opened his dark blue eyes wide. "I need to see it. I told you it would be the death of me!" As the second gunshot filled the room, cutting Ellen's scream short, Charles found himself crying and holding his side with his free hand, since the laughter was too much for him to handle now.
Putting the still smoking pistol gently down on the table, Doctor Charles Venner returned to his dinner with a wide smile. In the now empty house, void of all living things except himself, Charles finally felt at piece. He was unaware of the hair on his head growing darker and darker by the minute. After dinner, he left the house behind and started down the sidewalk towards the post office. He left the two bodies where they were, as if they were one big happy family that he could return to after his pleasant walk. bb